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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017935">The Graylighter</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/proofreading_whats_that/pseuds/proofreading_whats_that'>proofreading_whats_that</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Charmed (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:20:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27017935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/proofreading_whats_that/pseuds/proofreading_whats_that</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy-Harry ponder their merge.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Graylighter</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry-Jimmy scrubbed at the pan in the sink.</p><p>It had been weeks since the merge. The sisters had watched him in horror since then, not understanding, and Harry... Jimmy… whatever he was now had been unable to explain clearly. He hadn’t been able to explain it to himself. He huffed out a breath hard and stared into the sink.</p><p>The push and pull. The shove of emotions, the wild ride of highs and lows. It had been so long since Harry-Jimmy was whole the graylighter couldn’t remember if the teeter totter was normal, or if it was simply his flawed self that needed improvement. Either way, it needed to be addressed.</p><p>A soap bubble floated up and he looked at the window through it. Something flickered beyond the window. He shivered. Terrified if it were real. Terrified that he had lost it. The only comfort was in not knowing, but that “comfort” brought nothing but distress. The supposed comfort in <em> knowing </em> would cement the idea he had lost it. It made no sense; there was no proof. If there were no tangible proof, then it was not real. Only he could see those flickers, the sisters just looked at him in concern. He looked down at the pan. </p><p>The darklighter in him feared his other half - the optimism which was swept away so easily. The whitelighter in him feared the part of himself that didn’t even understand how he was vicious, only seeing the aftermath of some careless word or deed. Well intended, but gone wrong, and now most likely wrong again, but necessarily so.</p><p>Life since the merge had been difficult. At first, they all rode the highs of success. Now they rode the lows of fracture. A constant pull of misery, attempted reconciliation, and disintegration.</p><p>He looked back at the sink and rinsed the pan, setting it on the drying rack. He felt a hand on his back and stiffened as he glanced over his shoulder. Mel.</p><p>“Hey. This isn’t normal,” she said, rubbing his back. “The thoughts you were telling me about… that’s you. We get that. But this,” Mel said, kneading a knot in a shoulder. “This, you need to address, finally.”</p><p>The graylighter didn’t know if he should nod or shake his head, so instead he made an indeterminate noise. He didn’t know what it was, but the sudden swings of feeling nothing then everything at once didn’t seem like something the sisters did.</p><p>“You’re going to get some kind of help for this. I arranged an appointment for you tomorrow.”</p><p>The graylighter said nothing. Everyone had been so focused on the merge itself that it was possible that he simply did not know what it was like to be normal.</p><p>“Just take a break. You can always come back to it later.” She elbowed him out from in front of the sink.</p><p>The graylighter nodded. He looked out the window. Acquaintances, real, pulled at his heart. Imagination pulled at his heart. Whatever it was, the heartache of late needed to be smoothed, ironed out like his laundry. He owed the figments, real or imagined, whatever it was he feared that pulled at his heart, the double mirror, a debt of significant gratitude for the double mirror especially.</p>
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